


Soulmate Day

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [51]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Barista Bucky Barnes, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Falling In Love, M/M, Pineapples, Requited Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: Imagine Tony and Bucky in a coffee shop au. Bucky is the underpaid barista that makes a perfect cup of coffee and Tony is, well, Tony :-) <strong>combined with:</strong> Imagine soulmate AU + pineapple.</span>
</p>
<p>Tony hated the idea of soulmates. He really, really objected to it on multiple levels, the most important reason being because it seems to negate his entire idea of romance.</p>
<p>Example. Pepper. She is beautiful and amazing, and Tony is convinced they could have been something more together. Didn’t matter, though, because why would Pepper take a risk on seeing how they played out when she knew Tony wasn’t her soulmate? The answer was, she wouldn’t. Didn’t. Never mind that he’d danced at her wedding, and that Pepper and Natasha are perfect (and insanely attractive) together.</p>
<p>It’s the principle of the thing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmate Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [冬铁 灵魂伴侣AU Soulmate Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736933) by [dianamiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamiao/pseuds/dianamiao)



Tony hated the idea of soulmates. He really, really objected to it on multiple levels, the most important reason being because it seems to negate his entire idea of romance.

Example. Pepper. She is beautiful and amazing, and Tony is convinced they could have been something more together. Didn’t matter, though, because why would Pepper take a risk on seeing how they played out when she knew Tony wasn’t her soulmate? The answer was, she wouldn’t. Didn’t. Never mind that he’d danced at her wedding, and that Pepper and Natasha are perfect (and insanely attractive) together.

It’s the principle of the thing!

Like, okay, you’d think with soulmates being a thing that there’d be more happiness in the world, or something, but Tony’s pretty sure that isn’t the case. And no, he doesn’t have another world to compare it to, but he is very obviously correct anyway.

Another example. His own parents had been soulmates, and they’d had an awful marriage. Did they get divorced? Get counseling? No, because they were soulmates, so it was just “meant to be” and “how it was” and never mind that Tony would have maybe liked to have had parents that could be in the same room for five minutes without drinking or taking their shitty “meant to be” relationship out on him.

Because people were people, which meant they were awful, and showed no respect for something that, okay, maybe was kind of, on some level… appealing. A really tiny, minuscule level, mind you. The idea that there was someone else in the world that completed you? Not too shabby of a concept. It was the execution Tony had a problem with.

People still cheated, only they didn’t break up or deal with the infidelity the way you might if you were in a relationship with a non-soulmate; they just accepted the other person’s shitty behavior, because what was their other option? Admitting that the person who “completed” them made them into one big, complete asshole?

Plus, people still died in the world. That was a thing. Some of them did it after meeting their soulmate, while others died before, all tragic and perfect for the big screen. Either way, you had all these broken halves of couples that were adrift in society. Some of them still wanted relationships, or human contact, but from Tony’s experience, they kept a distance between themselves and any potential love interest. Because it wasn’t  _real_ , since it wasn’t their soulmate.

And sure, every once in awhile, someone would actually take a risk on him, sort of convinced by his arguments, or maybe swept off their feet by his bank accounts, but there always came the day when he’d get the, “but you’re not my soulmate,” speech and find himself alone again.

It was ugly.

It was depressing.

It was also the absolute worst day of the year if you were him, because it was Soulmate Day. This is why his very sexy, very capable brain was wasting time even thinking about this stuff.

It was Soulmate Day, and he was alone, just like the year before, and all the ones before that, and just like every year to come, because unlike everyone else on the goddamned planet, Tony Stark didn’t have a soulmate.

Being the special little snowflake he is, when he turned sixteen—the age when the mark of his soulmate should have manifested—all that happened was a big fat nothing. He’d watched, and watched, and waited. Tony could still remember the color swirling under his skin, slowly pushing to the surface inside the crook of his left arm, taking shape. Yellows, and dark browns, greens, the outline slowly giving it definition. Only, just as it began to gain cohesion, Tony had been made to watch in horror as the process began to reverse, everything fading with each beat of his heart, until he was left with smooth, unmarked skin.

His parents had taken him to the doctors, then specialists, and each time his mother had cried all the way home. It happened sometimes, the doctors swore, although it was extremely rare, and they had no explanation for what caused it. Typically, if your soulmate died the image simply lost color, didn’t just disappear before it ever had a chance to manifest.

After that, things had been different. He’d tried to live his life like he didn’t care. Lots of people survived losing a soulmate, so why should he feel like not ever having one to begin with meant that maybe his dad had been right, and he just didn’t have a soul. Howard had been particularly drunk at the time he’d made that remark, but it’d stuck with Tony.

He threw himself into work, kept on pretending that it was fine, but with each passing year, he felt the absence more keenly.

Almost as keenly as he was feeling the need for some coffee! He hadn’t had any yet, and he was legitimately in the throes of death.

“Come  _on_ ,” he groaned, head tipping back so he could stare at the ceiling while moaning pitifully. This was the longest he’d ever had to wait for sweet, sweet caffeine.

“I’m movin’ as fast as I can,” he heard someone snap, and blinked at the ceiling in confusion.

There was supposed to be a blue eyed, blond, six foot something hunk of man behind the counter, all impossibly adorable, and sweet, and with a body Tony absolutely wanted to map with his tongue.

“Where’s Steve?” he asked, trying and failing to spot the source of the voice. It wasn’t that he was too short to see over the divider (he isn’t  _that_  short), it was that the guy was crouched down behind the counter fiddling with something when he should have been making Tony’s coffee for him.

His question was met with a bang, some cursing, and the sound of glass breaking. Tony looked around, but he was still the only person in the shop. It was just after four in the morning, which might have had something to do with it being empty. The place had been open for all of eight minutes, and he’d been standing there for all of them, tortured by the scent of freshly brewed ambrosia, and the day’s batch of muffins baking.

Tony kept odd hours, and he hated making his own coffee, and he had a deep, deep appreciation for the male form. Especially when it was packed into too-tight t-shirts and khakis, and came with a smile and a sarcastic as fuck sense of humor like Steve’s.

The coffee shop wasn’t near his home, or his work—it was in Brooklyn of all places—but he made a point of only getting his coffee there. And yes, he knew the whole Steve thing was a pipe dream. They both knew he wasn’t Steve’s soulmate, and the guy bought into the whole concept. Not that Tony had tried to convince him there was no harm in sharing something (hot and sweaty) with someone else (him, perhaps?) while waiting to meet his soulmate.

So, sure, Steve was never going to happen, but he was still an incredibly nice guy, and Tony didn’t have enough incredibly nice people in his life, so he had vowed to only ever get his coffee from Steve. He was supporting a small business, sticking it to the big corporate coffee chains.

“Fuck my life,” he heard the mystery man grumble. In Russian.

“Steve doesn’t curse in Russian,” Tony felt the need to point out, wandering back over to the counter and leaning across it, hoping to spot the source of the muttering. “Also, he  _gives me coffee_.”

Just like that, someone popped up and into view. Suddenly, the angriest pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen—one time he’d been so sleep deprived and in need of Pepper’s guidance that he’d barged in on her annual gynecological exam, so he knew angry blue eyes intimately—were glaring daggers at him. He was so distracted by the rage there that he took several steps back.

“Holy shit, did I walk in on a robbery murder thing? You killed Steve, didn’t you?”

He wasn’t even joking. The guy was terrifying! He had on an apron, which looked to have blood on it, and  _the eyes_ , and Tony hadn’t realized he’d pulled out his phone to call the cops until he saw the horror spreading across the guy’s face.

“I didn’t kill Stevie,” the maniac swore, which was exactly what a cold blooded barista killer would say. “I work here.”

Tony’s thumb hovered over the connect call icon on his phone, the numbers 9-1-1 already entered. “Hey, pal, I’m in here a couple times a day every day,” he said, eyes narrowing assessingly. “I know everyone who works here!”

“I bake everything, I’m usually hiding in the back.”

Tony’s not buying it. “I’d still have seen you!”

The door chimes went off, jingling merrily as someone pushed their way inside. Tony risked a glance over his shoulder, saw Clint shuffling in, yawning. “Barton! Code Fuchsia, we have a killer in our midst!”

“Hey, Tony,” Clint said, smiling sleepily as he slapped Tony on the shoulder. “Hey Bucky.”

“Clint,” the murderer answered dryly, his eyes narrowing and a muscle in his jaw jumping with irritation as he continued to stare at Tony.

“Is code fuchsia another one of your coffee inventions?” Clint asked, not bothering with the little swing door, just sliding over the counter to get behind it, the same way he did every morning.

Slowly, Tony put his phone away, feeling embarrassment creep over him. “No,” he answered quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Where the hell is Steve?”

As he watched, the angry not-murderer rolled his eyes and shook his head, all but snarling. Killer or no, he was as intimidating as Steve was sweet. Tony gave him the once over, finally spotting the little name tag he was sporting, which did indeed have BUCKY scrawled on it in angry looking capital letters. And now that Tony was looking, he couldn’t help but notice the blood on the apron actually bore more of a resemblance to some sort of syrupy substance.

“Damn, what happened back here?” Clint asked, slipping and grabbing hold of the counter to steady himself.

“Somebody did a shit job of putting away the flavor shot bottles, so as soon as I opened the door they all fell out.”

Tony sniffed. That’d explain the odd mingling of vanilla, mint, raspberry, hazelnut, and amaretto he was picking up. That wasn’t important, though. What mattered was how under caffeinated he was, and the fact that no one had answered his question. He opened his mouth, planning to ask again, when Bucky whirled on him.

“I swear to god, if you ask where Steve is one more time, I’m gonna pull you across this counter and…”

“Yo, calm down,” Clint snapped, placing a hand on Bucky’s chest. “Tony’s cool.”

There was some wordless communication that passed between the two of them while Tony stood there, feeling like his entire world had been turned upside down. Clint wasn’t exactly known for being the voice of reason around the place.

“Is he okay?”

Tony hadn’t actually meant to ask, but it was occurring to him that maybe something horrible had happened, and that was why this guy was getting so bent out of shape. And, for whatever reason, the question, or maybe the genuine concern that could be heard in his voice, resulted in Bucky’s angry glare melting away into an almost blank expression.

“He’s fine,” Bucky answered, sighing. Tony watched the strange play of emotions on Bucky’s face, so captivated that he almost didn’t hear him say, “he’s on his honeymoon.”

It felt like the air had been punched out of him, taking logical thought right along with it. Yes, he’d known he’d never have a chance with Steve, but… Well. Maybe he’d liked to pretend. To fool himself into thinking that, with enough time, Steve would look and him and see a guy worth taking a chance on, soulmate or no.

“Oh.”

Bucky sighed again, although it was a little closer to a growl of frustration. “Met his soulmate,” he explained, snatching up a cup. Tony absolutely approved of the annoyed, condescending way Bucky said the S-word. “So what’s he do? Gets married! They’ve known each other  _two days_ ,” he continued, slamming through the motions of assembling a coffee. “But what the hell does that matter, what do I know? Only been the guy’s best friend since grade school. We’re  _soulmates_ , so why wait, Bucky? It’s meant to be, Bucky! Take over the shop for me while I’m on a beach somewhere with my soulmate, Bucky.”

Tony blinked as a cup was all but shoved into his hands by the only person he’d ever met that seemed to hate soulmates more than him.

Tony stared down at the cup in his hands. He hadn’t actually given the guy his order, and Steve had always been the only one that managed to get the proper balance of awesome into a cup for him. Bucky must have realized Tony doubted the order would be right, because he sighed again, looking for all the world like today was the worst day of his life.

“Large coffee, two thirds dark roast, one third medium, two shots of espresso, with a pinch of the hot chocolate mix added between the first and second shots. That’s right, ain’t it?”

Blinking seemed like a good option. “Huh. Is that how he gets it so good?”

Bucky’s brows drew together. “Wait, so, that’s not how you order it?”

From somewhere below the counter, Clint snorted. “Tony came in one day and asked if we had anything that would make someone that only likes black coffee feel less like driving his criminally expensive car off a bridge on his way into the office.”

“Aww, you remembered,” Tony said, trying to ignore the assessing look Bucky was giving him. It hadn’t been a particularly good day, and part of him hadn’t even been kidding about the bridge thing. A big part, actually.

“Then he tried to get Steve’s number,” Clint felt the need to add.

Bucky folded his arms across his chest, which was the first time Tony noticed that the left one was covered in tattoos.  _Covered_. They wrapped everywhere, one thing flowing into another, even down over his fingers, up under his sleeve, and now Tony couldn’t stop staring. There was something off about the arm, and it wasn’t just the tattoos, it was…

“Yeah, he told me _all about_  Tony,” Bucky said with a snort, an eyebrow arched.

Just like that, Tony wanted to cry. He wasn’t even sure why. Except… No. He knew why. He could admit that much to himself, at least.

It was waking up on the couch in his workshop after very little sleep, knowing that he’d have to deal with everyone else in the world celebrating today, while trying to remind himself that lots of people—even ones that had their soulmate—must feel achingly alone from time to time. Maybe not all the time like he did, but some of the time at least. Right?

So, yes, maybe he’d been looking forward to seeing Steve, because he always looked forward to seeing Steve. Steve smiled, and made his coffee perfectly, and even though he’d never give Tony a chance romantically, he’d accepted Tony as a friend which was, in a lot of ways, much nicer. Tony didn’t have a lot of those. Pepper had Natasha now, and Rhodey was overseas, and he was  _him_.

Steve had always been a friendly ear, finding the bright side of things when Tony was feeling down in the dumps, and he’d draw little cartoons on the napkins when it got slow, and Tony had a few of those in the office and his workshop, and…

And now Steve had met his soulmate, and was on his honeymoon, and had apparently told this Bucky guy “all about” Tony, which sounded like it probably translated to, “Tony? Oh, he’s the pathetic rich guy that comes in a couple times a day. I humor him, because of the whole rich thing, but he’s annoying, and did I mention pathetic? Yeah, the idiot thinks I’m his friend. What a loser.”

Tony swallowed, and set his cup of coffee down, flipping open the payment app on his phone, and holding it out for Bucky to scan. He still remembered how confused and delighted Steve had been when Tony had shown him the app he’d created for their shop. He’d tried to pay Tony back once he realized the app also came with state of the art POS software and hardware upgrades for the shop, and after a lot of arguing, they’d decided that Steve would just give Tony free coffee and muffins and they’d call it even.

But Steve was gone, and Tony felt like an idiot, and so he was going to pay for his coffee and then never come back. There was a little beep noise as the barcode on the screen was scanned, and then he shoved his phone in his pocket, and grabbed his coffee, and tried not to sound like a grown ass man about to have an emotional breakdown in a coffee shop when he said, “See ya, Clint.”

“See ya in a few hours, Tony,” Clint called, oblivious.

He made it as far as just outside the doors of the shop before his elbow was grabbed roughly, and he was yanked to a halt with enough force that he almost wound up wearing his coffee.

“Wait, hold up,” Bucky said, still holding onto his arm, and tightly at that. Tony stared down at the tattooed fingers wrapped around his arm—they were so strange—then up at Bucky’s face, somewhat surprised to see the anger was gone, replaced with what looked to be genuine concern. “Steve left a note for you.”

Tony blinked, and swallowed, and stared at the envelope Bucky was handing him. The front had a little cartoon version of himself hugging a huge cup of coffee drawn on it, and he smiled despite himself as he accepted it.

“Thanks.”

Bucky let go of his arm, allowing the blood to flow back into it, which was nice. He also stood there, shifting uncomfortably. “Um. I’m sorry, by the way. I suck at customer service. This is why Steve keeps me—kept me—in the back with the flour and sugar.”

Oddly, the apology helped, especially because Tony could see Bucky actually meant it. He’s still never coming back to the place, but its something. “It’s fine,” he lied, taking a few steps away.

“Is it okay?” Tony stopped again, looking over his shoulder. Bucky was still standing there, his hands fisted at his sides. “The coffee, is it okay?”

Tony stared at him a moment, then took a sip, because he had actually forgotten about the coffee he was holding, what with the whole Steve thing playing out. He took another sip. It wasn’t  _quite_  the same, but it was still good. Really good, actually.

“Yup. Thanks.”

Bucky smiled, and suddenly he looked like an entirely different person. The blue eyes were a lot nicer when they weren’t sending hate your way, for a start. And the slight stubble looked more ruggedly handsome and less like drifter murderer when he was smiling. Tony realized the guy had long hair, that most of it was pulled back into a little bun, and he looked taller out from behind the counter.

“I promise I’ll get it perfect when you come back,” Bucky said.

“Sounds good,” Tony answered, shifting awkwardly before giving a little wave and heading for his car. Bucky would have an easy time of it, since Tony wasn’t ever going back.

He made it halfway home before he couldn’t wait any longer, and pulled over to the side of the road to read Steve’s note.

_Dear Tony,_

_It finally happened! I met my soulmate. I know, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now, but Sam is amazing, and we’re getting married. I’ll be out of town honeymooning for at least a month. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in person. Hope you’ll forgive me for that._

_You’ve been such an amazing friend, so I feel really awful asking you for a favor, but I have to. The fella that gave this to you is my oldest friend in the world. I’ve told you about him, he’s the co-owner of the shop, the one that was in the Army. Bucky’s had a tough time since getting his discharge, but he’s been working really hard, and you’ve tasted how good his baking is. He’s sort of pissed off at me though, because now he’s going to need to step up and help Clint work the counter while I’m gone, and he doesn’t think he’s good with people._

_We’ve talked about soulmates, so I know how you feel. Well, before meeting you, Bucky was the only person I knew born without a soulmate. This is going to be a rough adjustment for him, any way you shake it, and I was sort of hoping you’d keep an eye on him while I’m gone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d feel a lot better knowing he had a friend like you in his corner while I’m away._

_Either way, I hope you’re well, and look forward to introducing you to Sam!_

_Your friend,_

_Steve_

Tony read and re-read the letter, tapping his finger against the “your friend” bit over and over again, feeling a lot better than he had when he’d left the shop. Sure, he’d have to stop daydreaming about Steve’s oiled, naked body, but that was okay. At least he hadn’t imagined the friendship part.

+

So, of course, sap that he was, he went back to the shop a couple hours later. To his absolute surprise, Bucky’s scowl was washed away, replaced with a smile of relief when he spotted Tony walking into the shop. Since it was no longer ass o’clock in the morning, the place was jumping, and so he had a bit of a wait.

“You came back,” Bucky blurted as soon as Tony stepped up to the counter.

Tony blinked, and shrugged. “Sure looks that way.”

Bucky had the look of a man who had been dipping into the supply. Bits of his hair had escaped the bun, so that strands were hanging over his forehead, and he was most definitely wired. Tony had seen that look on his own face more than once.

“Can I try putting a spin on your order?” Bucky asked, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the counter all rapid fire. “Also, there’s banana chocolate chunk muffins in the back, just came out of the oven.”

“Those are my favorite,” Tony stammered, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Right, like I said, Steve told me all about you.”

Bucky was chewing nervously on his lower lip, the fingers still tap-tapping away. “Sure, why not. Do with my coffee what you will.”

While Bucky scampered to get the order, Tony caught Clint’s eye, exchanging a look before heading over to his customary seat. He caught up on some emails while Clint took care of the rest of the line, looking up in surprise when Bucky set a coffee, a warm muffin, and himself down. Just plopped right into the seat opposite Tony, the way Steve always did, only he looked far more stressed than Tony had ever seen Steve look.

“Rough day?”

Bucky nodded, and ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know how he does it. Well, yeah I do, the punk is a likeable people person.”

Tony popped a bit of muffin into his mouth, and groaned despite himself. “Sorry. This is the first I’ve eaten today.” He all but inhaled the muffin while Bucky watched him.

“There’s more where that came from,” Bucky said. “Hey, did Steve’s letter say anything about me?”

“Why would his letter say anything about you?” Tony asked, pausing with his coffee halfway to his mouth.

The whole Jekyll and Hyde thing was making him suspicious. Earlier that morning he’d been convinced Bucky wanted to decapitate him, and now here he was, acting like they were old friends. Maybe Clint had explained how loaded he was, and Bucky smelled a payday? Only, that wouldn’t exactly explain why he was  _blushing_.

“Uh. No reason.”

“Actually, it did,” Tony admitted, mostly to see what would happen. And there he went, blushing furiously, shifting nervously in his seat. Tony wondered what it was, exactly, that Bucky thought Steve had said. “He mentioned you’re taking over while he’s on his honeymoon.”

Tony didn’t think it was his imagination that Bucky looked both relieved and disappointed. “Yeah, yup. Which, I suck at. Obviously.” Tony finally took a sip of his coffee, and had to groan again. “Or not? Maybe I got one thing right today.”

“This is delicious,” Tony swore. “Don’t tell him, but I think this one is actually better than Steve’s.”

Bucky grinned broadly at this, and Tony absolutely did not appreciate the way it made his eyes sparkle. “I’d tell you what I did, but then you wouldn’t have to come back.”

Huh.

“This is the only place where I can get a tricked out black coffee,” Tony said, inhaling the last of his muffin. “Please note that I returned despite the kerfuffle this morning.”

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was needling Bucky, just that he could still remember all too well how shitty he’d felt the last time he’d been in the place, which sucked. The coffee shop had always been his little oasis, and he’d almost lost it. But he did feel like sort of an ass when Bucky hung his head, and half hugged himself, fingers of his right hand curling around his left arm.

“Sorry. This is my least favorite day of the year, and with Steve gone it sucks even more than usual. Plus, everything was going horribly wrong this morning, but, yeah. Sorry. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Tony can tell by the way Bucky’s muscles tensed up that he was about to stand up, walk away from the table, and probably never come back. He thought of Steve’s note, and felt like an asshole.

“Worst day ever,” he agreed, sipping his coffee loudly. Bucky’s brows drew together in question, and Tony shrugged. Maybe Steve hadn’t told him everything after all? “Consider this a do-over. Hi, I’m Tony Stark.”

His hand remained extended across the table for what felt like an uncomfortably long period of time before Bucky smiled, and clasped it with his own, shaking. “James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

It must have been the caffeine or the sugar, because suddenly Tony’s heart was racing. Bucky’s hand was warm, and strong, and the idea of letting go was really, really hard to cope with, so he just continued holding and shaking and wondering what the fuck was happening. Bucky’s pupils had dilated, and he seemed to be breathing heavily, even as one of his fingers brushed back and forth across the inside of Tony’s wrist. It was as if little sparks of pleasure went radiating out from the spot, coursing through his body, making his blood rush south at an alarming and unexpected rate.

“Bucky!” Clint shouted, breaking the spell. They let go at the same time, and Tony wondered if he looked as dazed and confused as Bucky did. “The timer’s going off in the back!”

“So turn it off and take out the coffee cake if it’s done,” he shouted back, still staring at Tony.

“How do I tell if it’s done?”

Tony laughed as Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and muttered to himself. “Go ahead,” he suggested reluctantly. “I should be heading out, anyway.”

Bucky chewed on his lower lip. “Any chance I’ll see you later?”

“Sure,” Tony answered, distracted. Chewing on Bucky’s lower lip should definitely be his job. “I’ll be around before you close up,” he said, surprising himself a moment later when he added, “and then we can go to dinner together.”

This was normally when the other person made some sort of obvious reference to their soulmate mark, just in case they’d gotten it wrong and Tony really was their match. That was invariably followed with the brush off, unless he was offering no-strings-attached sex and partying.

Only, Bucky just perked up, a shy smile on his face. “Yeah. That’d be great, actually.”

The rest of the day was agony. Tony couldn’t shake the odd, nagging feeling that had taken hold of him almost as soon as he’d left the coffee shop. His thoughts kept drifting, and his palm felt like it was still tingling. He’d be in the middle of a conversation with Pepper, and suddenly have a flash of the way Bucky had smiled when he’d walked into the shop.

The scatterbrained factor must have been obvious and annoying, because Pepper kicked him out. That was fine, though, because it meant he could go home and get ready. For his date. A date date, one that might actually, possibly, go somewhere other than the inevitable, “sorry, but you’re not my soulmate,” ending he’d been dealing with his whole life.

Even if Bucky wasn’t interested in more than dinner with a potential new friend, Tony still had plans on Soulmate Day with someone who didn’t need to lord their soulmate mark over him. That was a first.

So he took his time and made himself look extra good, going for something a bit more casual, since he figured Bucky wasn’t going to feel comfortable if he showed up wearing a suit that cost more than the store paid in rent.

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited, or hopeful, or… wow, Bucky’s smile had somehow gotten even better since the last time they’d seen each other. How was that even possible.

“Hey,” he tried for casual, but it came out sort of sleazy anyway. “Need a couple minutes?”

Bucky was definitely checking him out. Amazing. “Nah, Clint’s gonna wrap it up for me,” he said. “Thanks, Clint!”

“Yeah, thanks, Clint,” Tony agreed. “Italian okay?”

“Italian is great,” Bucky answered, smiling down at him. Their chests bumped, and each of them made a little noise at the contact, swaying away from each other again. Bucky was shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was standing so close.”

“Mm, no, it’s fine,” Tony said, feeling slightly dizzy. “Um. Sorry, okay, food?”

They made it outside, Tony watching with his mouth hanging open as Bucky reached up and tugged his hair free from it’s little rubber band, then scrubbed his hand through it all. A strange, almost tropical scent wafted from him; his shampoo, maybe? It smelled sweet, and Tony thought nothing of stepping closer to get a better whiff. Bucky made a soft, needy sort of sound, and suddenly Tony had an arm around his waist, was being held against Bucky’s broad chest, feeling drunk or high or whatever it was, it was amazing.

“Sorry! Just, damn, you smell good, and, wow,” Tony babbled, feeling like he was on fire in the best possible way. “I’m not usually like this. Promise.”

“Me neither,” Bucky swore, his mouth so close, and yet so far away. Tony watched him swallow, and fought the urge to lick across Bucky’s Adam’s apple.

Somehow, they managed to let go of each other, and get into Tony’s car, and even get to the restaurant without Tony driving off the road. It was a close thing. Feeling completely unlike himself, Tony took Bucky by the hand, and led him in, liking the way the hostess smiled at them.

“Happy Soulmate Day,” she said, grabbing menus and leading them inside.

All around them, people were celebrating the day, mooning over each other, or, sadly enough, all but ignoring each other at their table as they went through the motions. Normally, Tony avoided going anywhere on this day, but whatever. If people wanted to think Bucky was his soulmate, he was okay with that. He could only be so lucky.

Tucked away in the back was still better, though, even if sitting down meant letting go of Bucky’s hand.

“Okay, gotta ask.” Tony shifted so that his chair was a little closer. “Why is today the first day I’m meeting you?”

The way Steve had talked about his friend had left Tony with the impression that Bucky did the baking overnight or something, and then was gone the rest of the day, but maybe he’d been there the entire time. Thinking of him hiding in the back made Tony sad for reasons he couldn’t explain.

Bucky did more of the lip chewing, and Tony stifled a moan. Just barely. “After losing the arm, being around people was tough. So was learning to use the prosthetic. Started baking as a way to get better at that, and… I like it back there, where people don’t stare at you like you’re broken.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and suddenly the slight stiffness and odd factor of Bucky’s left arm made sense. What he’d taken for tattoos was actually artwork (and upon closer inspection, it looked to be done by Steve) Bucky’d had put on the prosthetic.

“But you were back there, the whole time?” he asked, hoping Bucky didn’t notice him just now noticing the arm.

“Yup. Um. It’s how I recognized you when you came in this morning.”

Before he could say anything, their waiter showed up, and so they placed an order, and sipped nervously at the wine that had arrived, until Tony shifted his seat even closer to Bucky’s.

“Gotta say, I’m kinda happy Steve found his soulmate,” Tony said, staring into Bucky’s eyes. “You might never have come out of the kitchen, otherwise.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame,” Bucky agreed, smiling. He sighed, and looked around the room. “What do you think it feels like?” he asked. “Having one.”

Tony shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We could always ask Steve when he gets back.”

“You really don’t have a soulmate either?” Bucky asked almost nervously. Tony couldn’t blame him. He’d been rejected often enough.

“Nope. Looked like I was going to, then the mark faded away before it set, and that was that.”

“Same,” Bucky said with a sigh. “Close, but no cigar.”

Tony drained his wine glass, and sighed. “Guess I’m doomed to be alone.”

“Hey, we could be alone together,” Bucky suggested, resting his hand on Tony’s knee. He shook his head, looking down at his hand, then back up to Tony. “Shit, seriously, I don’t normally come on this strong, it’s just…”

“No, it’s fine,” Tony assured him. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, actually. Uh, and maybe I’m having a tough time keeping my hands off of you, too.”

“It’s so weird,” Bucky continued, his thumb stroking against Tony’s knee, and making him squirm pleasantly. “I… The reason I asked if Steve had mentioned me in his letter was because I always, um. I thought you were cute. I used to peek out from the back whenever you showed up.”

Tony could feel how goofy his grin was. “Seriously?” he asked, completely surprised.

Bucky smiled back, seemingly encouraged by this response. “Yeah, and then I finally get to talk to you face to face and all you cared about was Steve, and… Sorry again about this morning.”

“It’s fine,” Tony insisted. He was having trouble wrapping his head around the understanding that they’d only known each other since that morning. It felt like he’d known Bucky forever. “You’re beautiful. Shit. Sorry, it’s just,” and he stopped fighting, and just reached out, stroked Bucky’s cheek. “Your eyes are killing me. In a good way, mind you.”

“Can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Bucky said softly. “And you feel so far away that it _hurts_.”

“Right? What is that, anyway? It’s like a… a pulling sensation in my chest?” Tony gushed, shifting even closer. “Like this itching, all consuming need to kiss you, or I’ll lose my mind.”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed, his eyes wide. “I’m gonna, by the way. Is that okay?”

“That’s a great idea, we’ll kiss, and then eat, and,” Tony stopped talking as soon as Bucky’s mouth was on his.

He’d had a lot of pleasure in his life, soulmate or no. Some of that had even been from pharmaceuticals that claimed to offer the soulmate bonding high with a stranger, but nothing in his life had prepared him for the way it would feel to kiss Bucky. It was as if every last little aching bit of loneliness was being carefully, expertly extracted from his heart, leaving nothing but warmth and a sense of belonging in its place. He clung to Bucky, groaning loudly as their lips brushed again and again, hissing with pleasure when Bucky’s tongue slid hotly against his own, and…

“You taste so sweet,” Bucky whimpered, holding him tight, so very tight, kissing Tony hungrily.

But it wasn’t him, it was  _Bucky_. It was like the scent from before, a sweetness he couldn’t quite place, so Tony chased after it, only partially aware that he’d been pulled onto Bucky’s lap, and that they were still in a public place. It was tough to care, though. The kiss was that good, that sweet, left him shaking, and maybe even tearing up a bit.

“Mm, like pineapple,” Bucky sighed, tugging on Tony’s lower lip. “Always liked pineapple.”

Tony laughed, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “Yeah, it does taste like pineapple. Which is weird. Were you eating pineapple earlier?”

“No, I thought it was you?”

Tony shook his head, and pressed another kiss against Bucky’s criminally soft lips. “No. I never eat it, even though I like the taste. Always made me sad. The, um, the mark, before it disappeared, it sort of looked like a pineapple, and…”

“What?” Bucky grabbed him, holding on almost painfully tight. He gave a little shake, and Tony frowned. “What did you just say?”

Tony stared at him, a little annoyed. “Pineapple,” he said again, pointing to his left arm. “A big, fat, juicy looking pineapple, only it was gone before it finished, and…”

Bucky had let go and was shoving at his left shirtsleeve. Tony watched in confusion as he pushed the fabric up and out of the way, revealing more of the prosthetic, where right in the same spot Tony had indicated there was a drawing of a pineapple. Yellows and greens and it was almost exactly what he’d seen before having his mark vanish.

“Why the fuck do you have this?” he asked, climbing off of Bucky’s lap.

Bucky was staring at him. “Because that was what I saw just before the mark disappeared,” he answered, looking back down at his arm. “Then I lost the whole damn arm.”

Tony sat down in his seat feeling as if his legs had been taken out from under him. His entire body was tingling, his heart was racing, and out of nowhere, he began laughing.

“Are you seriously laughing about me having my arm amputated?” Bucky asked, even though he was laughing right along with Tony.

“No,” Tony gasped, reaching out to grab Bucky’s hand. “No, idiot, I’m laughing because we’re  _soulmates_!”

“But…” Bucky blinked, and shook his head. “Oh my god. _That’s_  what the soul bonding feels like?”

“It didn’t start until after we touched each other, and said our names,” Tony pointed out, “and the matching marks? And pineapple, Bucky,  _pineapple_!”

“But why did our marks disappear?” Bucky asked, squeezing Tony’s hand, smiling wide open and wonderful.

“I have no fucking idea,” Tony answered, laughing again. “Happy Soulmate Day?”

Bucky pulled him in, kissed him again, and yup. Still tasted like pineapple. He had no idea if that was normal or not; most people’s soulmate marks weren’t pieces of fruit.

“Happy Soulmate Day,” Bucky said a moment later. “Want to help me be a huge hypocrite?”

“If that means marrying you and running away to have sex on the beach, count me in,” Tony said. “I’m rich, I can make up for you having to close the shop for a week or two.”

“This is the best day of the year,” Bucky sighed.

Tony had to agree. That was why he’d always loved the idea of soulmates. He really, really approved of it on multiple levels, the most important reason being because Bucky lived up to the entire notion of a soulmate.

“To pineapple,” Tony said, refilling his glass with wine and raising it in a toast.

“To pineapple,” Bucky agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I would love to know who sent in the soulmate au + pineapple request, because well played! :D
> 
> You can find me on tumblr here: [dezinformatsia.tumblr.com/](http://dezinformatsia.tumblr.com/) and all of my Imagine Tony & Bucky fills can be found here: [imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/tagged/dezinformatsia](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/tagged/dezinformatsia)


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